Healing Scars
by alchemyfreak42
Summary: Sequel to "Brand" by Scarpaw. (Read that first). Remus meets an old friend in a bar. Set shortly after Sirius's death.


**Okay, I know I haven't updated "In the Dark" in ages, and I'm sorry. I had exams, and now I need to get my motivation back and get writing. Oohh, crap. I left that on a cliffie didn't I? I'm an asshole. Sorry. I'll try to get that up soon. Sorry!**

**Anyway, this is a little sequel/companion fic to "Brand" by Scarpaw. You should probably read that first. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and Fullmetal Alchemist is property of Hiromu Arakawa. Not me, much as it pains me to say that. Or type. Either way.**

* * *

Remus walked through the rain silently, letting his mind wander where it would, his thoughts dark and depressing. It had been only weeks since Sirius's death, and it had hit him hard. Sirius had been his best friend, and then Remus had condemned him for a false crime without even giving him the benefit of the doubt. And shortly after Sirius had been redeemed in Remus's eyes, he died. Killed by Bellatrix Lestrange while ton a mission to rescue his godson, whom for thirteen years, Remus thought Sirius had betrayed.

Life was really just too cruel sometimes.

He shouldered his way into a dimly lit pub -not a wizarding pub; he wanted to be surrounded by muggles, blissfully ignorant of Voldemort's return- and made his way over to the bar. "Scotch," he said, placing his money on the counter.

He glanced around himself, taking in the sparse company in the area. A couple men talking at a table in the corner, a pair of lovers embracing -hardly the place, he thought as he glanced at the dreary room- and a young man sitting a few seats down from Remus himself, his eyes -_gold_ eyes- a storm of emotion, though the rest of his face remained impassive.

"Here ya go," the bartender said, placing the drink before Remus, the glass making a dull _thunk_ against the thick wood of the bar.

"Thanks," he said absentmindedly, still staring at the blond youth- there was something familiar about him, though Remus couldn't figure out what.

"You need something?" The stranger snapped suddenly, his golden eyes boring into Remus.

"Huh?" Remus asked, his mind not working properly for a moment.

"Do you need something?" The youth repeated slowly, gritting his teeth. "People usually don't stare at a person unless they need something."

Remus shook himself, trying to get rid of his sense of deja-vu. "Sorry. I just usually don't see people with golden eyes. Not many people have them."

The kid glared coldly at him. "I can't help my genetics, thank you," he ground out. "And may I point out that _you_ have golden eyes as well?"

Remus coughed awkwardly. "Sorry. I just...sorry," he repeated.

The kid sighed and shook his head. "Whatever. So long as you don't try to stone me," he muttered, the second part low enough that Remus wouldn't have heard it without his superior werewolf's hearing.

"Pardon?" He asked cautiously, trying desperately to remember what this kid reminded him of.

The kid shook his head. "Nothing, don't worry about it." He frowned into his drink once more.

"Remus Lupin."

"Huh?" The kid asked, looking up in surprise.

"My name- it's Remus Lupin. What's yours?"

The kid frowned for a moment, as though he also was suffering from deja vu. "Ed. Edward Elric," he said after a long moment.

Remus blinked in surprise, memories suddenly flooding back to him- a group of children throwing stones, a taller boy coming to his rescue, broad shoulders walking away from him.

"Is there a problem with my name now?" Ed asked sarcastically, one eyebrow cocked upwards.

Remus shook his head lightly. "No, not at all." They shared another moment of silence, each looking into their drinks. "Those kids don't make fun of me anymore," he said, breaking the quiet and causing his companion to jerk and spill a few drops of his drink on the counter.

"What?" He asked, looking at Remus in surprise.

Remus shook his head, a small smile twitching his lips upwards. "When I was younger, the other children threw stones at me and called me names. Then one day, a boy came and stopped them." A faraway look came into his eyes as he traveled back through time. "He told me, '_It doesn't matter if you're different on the outside or the inside from people, you're all equal and you should be proud of your oddities._' Two days later, my life changed for the better. Those kids never bothered me again."

Edward looked at him for a long moment before a smile spread across his face and he chuckled. "You're that kid? The one they were calling a demon?" His smile was light as he shook his head unbelievingly.

Remus chuckled too. "Yeah, that was me." He sent Edward a quizzical look. "But how is it that you still look like a teenager?"

It was the wrong question to ask, he discovered, as Edward's eyes darkened.

"It's a long story," he finally said.

"I've got time," Remus responded.

"You wouldn't understand," Edward said softly.

"Maybe I wouldn't understand, but I'll at least listen to you," Remus told him gently, putting a hand on the apparent-teen's shoulder. "When was the last time someone did that for you?"

This time, the silence lasted so long Remus thought he wouldn't answer at all.

"A philosopher's stone. I have-no, I _am_ a philosopher's stone." His gaze was so tormented that Remus's breath caught.

"But-" he swallowed before trying again, the look in Edward's eyes tearing at his very soul. "But how? Why is that a bad thing?"

"You- you don't know how it's made," He choked out, looking away.

"How?" Remus asked softly, gently, as though Edward might break at any moment. Which, on second thought, he might.

"Souls," He whispered darkly. "_Thousands_ of them."

Remus stared at him in horrified understanding. "_No,_" he murmured, unable to believe it but knowing it was the truth all the same.

"Yes," Edward told him. "I have thousands of human souls trapped inside of me because of that _bastard._"

And so Edward told him his story, of Amestris and of Father and the homunculi, and of his father Hohenheim, and of his brother Alphonse and his automail mechanic Winry Rockbell, and of the Bastard-Colonel Roy Mustang and his almost-shadow First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, and the family-man Colonel Maes Hughes, and Major Alex Lois Armstrong, whose pride in his family was unrivaled, and of others, so many others he had fought alongside to save his country.

And of how, in the end, Alphonse had sacrificed himself so that Edward could defeat Father and save Amestris.

And of the deal Edward had made with Truth, a deal to give back his teacher's organs and Mustang's eyesight, and Alphonse's body and soul and mind, as long as Edward left his world behind for a new one and took into himself the philosopher's stones within the remaining homunculi, so that the people of Amestris could be safe from the monsters.

The story poured out of Edward, along with sobs and tears held back for years _-decades-_ until there was no more to tell and no more tears to shed.

They sat in silence when all had been told, not saying anything, just sitting in silence, just being, until Edward broke the silence once more. "Sorry," He said hoarsely. "I didn't mean to dump all of that on you."

Remus shook his head gently. "You helped me once; it's time I returned the debt."

Edward's mouth twitched. "Equivalent Exchange," he said softly, a mix of bitter sadness and fond recollection intertwining in his voice.

When Remus spoke again, he was speaking not only to Edward, but also to Sirius, though the latter wasn't there to hear the words. "You did a great thing, you know. You gave yourself up to protect the people you loved. That's the greatest thing a person can do, the greatest sacrifice a person can make."

Later, neither could recall how long they spent sitting there in companionable silence as the night sky poured out its own sorrows to the earth below, but neither did they think it important how long they spent. All that mattered was that they had both been healed a little bit, on the inside, by the conversation. One by having someone to pour out his sorrows to, and the other by finally accepting and understanding the death of his dear friend.


End file.
